


Not Normal

by flamingburningfandomtrash



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Claiming, Drunk-ish, F/M, Fluff, Hurt and comfort, Misogyny, No Smut, Spoons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:34:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21950785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamingburningfandomtrash/pseuds/flamingburningfandomtrash
Summary: When you come home from a rough day at work, you're essentially on the edge of snapping.But it's good to know that when all goes wrong, you have a home to go to.**This is my first Underfell work, feel free to tell me how I did!****Happy Holidays to all of you! This is my gift, I guess**
Relationships: Sans (Underfell)/Reader
Comments: 30
Kudos: 133





	1. Chapter 1

On a NORMAL day, you would come home, typically exhausted from work, and crash on the couch.

And on a NORMAL day, Red would come and drop beside you, to listen to your vents about customers you had to deal with. The TV would probably be playing something Mettaton-related.

An on a NORMAL day, he’d listen, let you wind down some, and then let you fall asleep. Sometimes on the couch, sometimes with your head on his shoulder, and occasionally you’d have the energy to drag yourself up to bed, if that was an option.

Boss called it a sign of weakness what Red hadn’t pranked the human in their sleep, like he used to do to him all the time (and still does). But he knows that wouldn’t be fair to you. You’re the only one holding everything together anymore, honestly. You cleaned up the apartment, helped Boss get a stable job. You made Red go into therapy to help with his anxiety- and it had, somewhat. Between the pills and the quiet and the extra rest, he felt like living has gotten easier. You had Papyrus (you refused to call him “Boss”, and insisted Red do the same) take anger management lessons. Which, also seem to be working. It’s calmer in the house when the two of them aren’t always at each other’s throats.

Of course, neither will admit they like the change. Peace feels… still unfamiliar.

(And god forbid they trust the unfamiliar.)

Ever since you moved in, everything they thought they knew about the world seems unfamiliar. Kindness used to be laughable, now it’s expected. Courtesy was only given if you wanted something- and even then, if they didn’t give it to you, you could always just kill them for it. Now it's required. But on the surface, things that would have got you killed in the Underground are entirely normal. Or. Mostly. Humans don’t NORMALLY come up to doorsteps, freezing, and ask if it’s alright for them to stay the night. 

Red had said yes to you, just that once, but only because you had one HP left, and Boss wasn’t home. But one night had turned into two, two into a week, a month into many, many months. You aren’t friends. You aren’t, supposedly, even acquaintances. But you’re here, and you’re helpful. Boss had said as long as you were useful, you could stay. You sleep in his room when he isn’t home, and on the couch when he is. You eat whatever they give you. And you talk some, but not if you don’t have to. Never loudly. Always sober. Always doing something helpful, either for them, or for the house. You got a job so you could help pay for things, too. Whatever you needed, plus some things around the house. You’re a cashier at some crappy K-Mart down the street. You hate your job. But you’re always quiet about it.

Except today.

The door slams open so loudly that Red jumps, worried Boss is home early- if he sees the house in a mess like this- but it’s just you. There might as well be a literal storm cloud over your head, from your mood. You dump your bag at the door, toss your keys in the general direction of the key hook on the wall, and head towards the kitchen. No stopping at the couch today.

“what happened?” Red calls, slightly amused, over his shoulder. He’s never seen you actually seem pissed before. It’s an interesting development.

The footfalls stop. He can practically hear you freeze, your head swivel to look over your shoulder at him, without even having to look. He can feel the eyes on the back of his skull. And it only takes one stifled breath to tell him that you’re crying. He turns around, one arm over the back of the couch, slightly more concerned. Not too much, though. Boss has had much worse episodes than this.

“you good? ya look like ya got hit by a truck.”

Your messy hair, the bags under your tired eyes- he’s pretty sure you changed, too, he could have sworn when you left for work today you were wearing a tank top. Though he can’t imagine why you would have changed. However, he immediately regrets the snarky comment the moment it comes out of his mouth. For the first time… he can see real ANGER burn up in your eyes. Not frustration, not annoyance. RAGE. He almost has the urge to back away, because it’s coming off you in waves- and you look about two seconds away from snapping, one way or the other. But then, it’s gone in a blink. You take a deep breath, long and deep, then answer quietly so you can hide the break in your voice.

“‘M fine. Sorry. Bad day.”

That’s… more normal. But not quite. You’re faking it. “you wanna come watch some TV or somethin’?”

“No, thanks.”

Definitely not normal. “c’mon, y-”

“No.” That time, some of the anger shines through, and he drops it.

“fine.”

You grab something, snacks or whatnot, and head upstairs. He doesn’t bother asking you what’s wrong.  
~~~~~  
“SANS, WHERE IS THE HUMAN?” Boss- no, Papyrus- asks, after coming home.

“your room.”

“AND WHY IN THE WORLD IS SHE IN MY ROOM, I TOLD HER I WOULD BE HOME TONIGHT!”

“she’s not really at her finest at the moment.”

“WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?”

Red shrugs. 

“she was in bad shape when she came home, didn’t wanna talk about it, went upstairs. ’s all i know.”

“YOU IMBECILE, GO UP THERE AND FIND OUT WHAT’S WRONG SO I CAN GET HER OUT OF MY ROOM!”

If you were down here, you’d probably make him rephrase that, and cut the condescending names, but you aren’t. And you’d probably see if Papyrus could do it instead, out of courtesy, but you aren’t.

So Red trudges up the stairs to go find out what’s wrong with you, anyway.

When he opens the door to Papyrus’ room, you aren’t there. Odd. You DID come up the stairs, didn’t you? Digging under the bed, behind the desk… nothing.

‘oh, she did NOT-‘ he thinks, suddenly straightening up- did you?

After shortcutting into his room, he finds out that you, in fact, did. You’re in HIS ROOM, instead of in THERE, where you were supposed to be. He often thinks about what you would think if you came into his room, but never that you would actually DO IT. 

He would have invited you casually, maybe after watching some TV- and you’d talk more. Maybe you’d try to clean his room some, and he’d have to tell you to leave it. It’s one of the things his mind likes to wander to when he’s bored. 

Though he’s never considered that you would be hammered when you first came in. There’s a bottle of something or other in one hand, empty box of tissues in the other. You’re half-awake, half-asleep. Your face is covered in tears, which you occasionally swipe at with a weak fist. Pathetic.

“oh.” is the only thing that comes out of his mouth when he first sees you. 

It’s honestly just sad. Not even funny-sad, either, like in movies. You look really… depressed, or something. Depress-ING, certainly. You keep sniffling, too. It’s a sad noise. He crouches down and pulls the bottle out of your hand (it slips out of your grasp in one tug), then sniffs at the rim-

“woah, that’s strong,” he looks back at you- “why the hell’d you…”

You look up, eyes spilling over.

“‘M sorry… you can kick me out now if you *hic* wanna.”

“why would you do somethin’ this STUPID?” he asks, ignoring your comment.

“Got fired,” you mumble, swiping your eyes on your sleeve. “Some guy called me a slut for wearing a tank top… and I got mad… so they fired ME. Everything SUCKS, and now I’m useless and you guys are going to make me go back out there, and I’m gonna d-die…”

Red can feel every particle of himself tense with anger. Some jerk got you fired for something that wasn’t your fault- no wonder you were mad, he would be pretty pissed himself. And now you think you’re going to get kicked out of the only home you’ve got because of it.

“you get his name? i’ll find him, watch me,” he asks, on instinct.

You open your mouth, clearly ready to give an answer, but refrain.

“N-no… don’ remember…”

“you are gonna be a MESS in the mornin’,” he observes, as your head falls onto his mattress. He sighs, slightly annoyed. “hold on.”

A quick shortcut downstairs-

“WHAT IS TAKING SO LONG UP THERE, SANS, I WANT TO GO TO SLEEP.”

“your room’s fine, she went in mine.”

“PREPOSTEROUS, SHE NEVER GOES IN THERE.”

“well, she is. you know where we got any water bottles?”

“FRIDGE. WHY IS SHE IN YOUR ROOM?”

He opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle, checking to make sure it’s a new one, before answering. 

“she got fired, thought we were gonna kick her outta the house. now she’s sloppy drunk in my room, and i gotta make sure she isn’t too wrecked tomorrow morning.”

“WHY? IT’S HER PROBLEM. DON’T DO ANYTHING STUPID.”

Red hesitates. Why IS he helping you, anyway? You aren’t offering him any help. If anything, you lost him something. The little money you were bringing in to the house made it easier for Boss to ignore the slack Red was leaving by not having a job. And then you went and wasted good whiskey. And THEN you went in HIS room. So why’s he helping you, anyway?

The thought almost makes him put the bottle back in the fridge. But then, he stops, shaking his head, and shutting the door.

“she always helped us when we didn’t ask for it. imma go help her out.”

“IF YOU INSIST,” he drawls.

Red shortcuts back into his room. You’re still a complete mess.

Seeing you all broken like this… a tiny part of him wants to just take care of you. No guilt or IOU’s afterwards. Just living in the perfect world you always talk about. Kindness for kindness’ sake, and nothing more. Wouldn’t that be great? Just being able to hold ya until you felt better, and even after that?

‘stop it, you’re bein’ stupid,’ he warns himself, getting back to the task at hand.

“you’re gonna haft drink some’a this, or you’re gonna hurt a lot more tomorrow.”  
You don’t respond but for a slurred apology of some kind. He finally picks you up and carries you downstairs, to the couch, giving up.

“WHAT-” Boss (Red really doesn’t care what he calls his brother anymore) starts.

“i told ya, she’s a wreck, but we can’t just let her stay this way forever.”

“HM.” He pauses, looking at you. Red can see his brother have the same sympathetic realization he had. “I SUPPOSE NOT. I’LL GO GET MORE WATER.” 

He sighs, standing up from the couch and heading to the fridge. Huh. That’s a quick change of heart. Maybe seeing you made a difference.

Once Red has some water, he helps coax little sips into you, until you’ve downed one bottle. Then a second. After that, you start to threaten to throw up, so they find a bowl- luckily, you don’t. 

In your head, everything is kind of falling apart- but what you do know is that Red and Papyrus are suddenly taking care of you. They aren’t being rude anymore, they seem like they’re legitimately trying to help you. If you weren’t so open-minded about these things, you’d probably be suspicious.

And, slowly, after a few more sips of water, you croak-

“I can sleep here.”

Papyrus finds a blanket for you and tosses it over- Red lays it out and helps you lay down onto it. Silent, but gentle. You weren’t aware he could BE gentle. 

“‘M sorry,” you mumble again, as you start to fall asleep. 

“’s ok. we ain’t gonna kick ya out, y’know.”

“Y-you’re not?” you ask, sounding surprised.

“nope.”

From the kitchen, you hear Papyrus, clearly trying to be quieter than usual-

“We could not kick out family, that would be unthinkable.” 

Both you and Red hesitate, thrown- did he really just say that? The Great and Terrible Papyrus?

“I-I’m… I’m family?” you ask, eyes wide.

“yeah,” Red says, slowly, as if he’s worried this will turn out to be a joke or a test. “course ya are. been with us long ‘nuff, might as well be.”

“Wow,” you murmur, into the blanket. “Wow.”

“AND BESIDES,” he adds, walking in with another water bottle, “NO ONE HAS TOLD ME THE DETAILS OF WHY YOU GOT FIRED, ANYWAY.”

“Well. There was some guy. Said some crap about me because of my tank top.”

“AND?”

“I…” you hesitate, cringing- “I slapped him.”

There’s a silence, and you bury your face in your hands, embarrassed. Red and Papyrus just look kind of surprised. You? The perfect little no-violence human, slapping someone?

You look from the space in-between your fingers, waiting for someone to call you a hypocrite or take back what they said about you being “family”… when Red starts laughing.

“seriously?” he asks, between chuckles. “that’s hilarious! i- i wish i coulda seen his, heh, face-”

You smirk at the memory, even though your gut gets all twisty with regret- he was leaned over the counter, calling you horrible things- and then you just snapped. And then he had the red handprint on his face, and his eyes went so wide… you start to giggle, too.

“It was kinda priceless,” you admit. “He looked so- heheh- SURPRISED.”

Even Papyrus grins-

“I WOULDN’T HAVE THOUGHT YOU HAD IT IN YOU, HUMAN. THAT IS HOW YOU STAND UP FOR YOURSELF!”

Your face falls slightly,

“No, that’s- it was funny, but it wasn’t right. And I got in trouble for it in the end anyway.”

“well, ya shouldn’t’ve! what’d they do with the guy?” Red asks.

“Nothing,” you sigh, quietly.

“WHAT?!” Papyrus asks, sounding furious. “HE HAD THE AUDACITY TO INSULT YOU, YOU WERE JUST DEFENDING YOURSELF! AND BESIDES, THERE IS NO REASON FOR ANYONE TO INSULT YOU. I DOUBT YOU’VE DONE ANYTHING EVEN REMOTELY WRONG IN YOUR LIFE.” 

You blush, and mutter,

“Not true.”

“IT IS. I AM NEVER WRONG. SANS, BACK ME UP HERE.”

“i dunno about you never doin’ anything wrong.” He shrugs- “but if anyone ever insults ya again, remember their name, k?”

You nod slowly, alcohol starting to get to your head. You were never one to get all excited when you were drunk. Mostly you get all warm and pass out.

“Sans, the human is falling asleep,” Papyrus says in a “low” voice. It’s just a normal talking voice, but it’s an improvement.

“yeah, i know,” he replies absently, not taking his eyelights off you. 

Your face kinda gets softer when you’re asleep. And you’re smiling a little. He hasn’t seen you smile since he told you he would take some meds to help his anxiety attacks. He didn’t know why you seemed so happy about it then, but after trying it for a while, he understood.

A part of him- one that he doesn’t understand yet, wonders what you’d feel like. If he held you. Or hugged you. Or even if he could just fall asleep by you or something…

“-Sans, are you listening to me?”

Red jumps-

“yeah, Boss.”

And then he feels a hand on his arm, small and soft- oh. It’s you. He’d forgotten how much smaller you are than him. Not TOO small, but both of your hands could fit comfortably in one of his. He looks down at you- you shake your head “no”.

“uh-” he asks, confused- “oh, right- yeah, BRO.” 

You nod and your hand slides off his arm again, fingers trailing over the bone. His arms nicked with scars and chips, ones from fighting, or even just Papyrus being too rough. He has to admit, the feeling of your fingertips alone makes him want to claim you. Somehow. Make you HIS.

That was how it worked in the Underground. None of that mushy lovey-dovey stuff. You find someone you care about, you ask ‘em to be yours, and you claim ‘em. 

It’s normally something that happens at night. There are a million ways to do it. Anything- from something crude, like a collar, to having soul bonded with them, anything to show the world that you’re taken. And you have someone defending you. 

Personally, he’d go for something he’d have fun making- like a nip-mark on your neck or shoulder… he would make sure you were okay with it first, though. He’d make sure you didn’t hurt.

“Well, you’re obviously enamored, with a HUMAN, which is disgusting,” Papyrus says, cutting into his train of thought. Red’s face falls, embarrassed and flushing. “But I’ll allow it, just for her sake.”

He looks up, still red in the face, but more hopeful. 

“t-thanks.”

“You’d better make sure she stays home tomorrow so you can make your advances.”

“yeah.”

“What are you doing?” he asks.

Red curls up behind you on the couch, one hand sliding around your waist to hug you closer to his chest. As drunk-off-your-ass as you are, you don’t bother resisting, but just fall deeper asleep. He hopes you’re still this way tomorrow morning. 

Every part of you fits right in his hands, and he knows he’s going to protect every inch of it. 

So he makes a choice. He’ll let it all settle right now, and he’ll help you with what’s going to be a painful hangover, and he’ll make sure you drink water and get some sleep…

But the moment all that’s over, he’s gonna make you his.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red wants revenge, and then he goes and gets hurt.  
> What's next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, this is the most attention my stuff has gotten in a while  
> who knew Underfell would be so popular  
> I accidentally wrote twenty pages so  
> here ya go

It’s been a few weeks since you were fired, and you still wake up in the morning with headaches. Whatever was in that whiskey was STRONG. You always wake up swearing that you don’t plan to drink anything but water for the rest of your days- though deep down you know you won’t.

It’s been… different. Since.  
For one thing, Red has been acting weird since it happened. You don’t point it out, it’s not your business, but you see it. He’s strangely defensive of you, always asking if there have been any more rude people at work. If it’s socially acceptable for him to be by your side, he is. And even sometimes when it isn’t. Compliments, nicknames- you don’t want to call it FLIRTING, exactly, but that’s arguably what it is.

Papyrus is acting like he doesn’t notice, though you know he does. When they think you’re asleep, you hear him complaining about Red ‘stalling’. Whatever THAT means. He leaves the house more often, leaving the two of you alone for sometimes nights at a time. If you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t know where he goes. And you aren’t sure you always want to.

It’s confusing and infuriating, and you honestly wish things would just go back to normal.

Tonight, though, you can forget about it for a bit. Papyrus is out with Undyne to spar or something, so he won’t be here. And Sans says he has some ‘business’ he needs to take care of. You’re slightly curious, but you’ve been waiting for a night you can have to yourself, so you don’t complain.

(Something tells you just one raised question would be enough to keep him here with you.)

“And when are you gonna be back?” you ask, carrying his several-pound-heavy jacket over to him- he takes it out of your arms and pulls it on with a shrug.

“thanks. should be done by eight if i’m quick.”

“Eight o’ five, then, because you’re always late.”

“true,” he chuckles, zipping up the front of the jacket and shooting you a smile. “by the way, where’d ya get that?”

You look at the t-shirt you’re wearing- it’s several sizes too large, and you’re noticing now that it smells like mustard. You blush and laugh-

“I think it’s YOURS,” you say, face getting redder every second. “Sorry, I didn’t even realize. Here, I’ll go change-”

“nah, don’t. looks better on ya than it ever did on me. keep it.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised. “I mean, I don’t know about it looking better on me, but thank you,” you add.

“trust me, babydoll, anythin’ you wear is gonna look nice on ya. oh- shit, i gotta go,” he remarks, looking at the time and turning to the door. “watch the house, don’t get yourself hurt, all that jazz.”

“Got it,” you squeak, still recovering from the nickname and the flattery. “Bye.”

“bye.”

Well. That happened.

“How about you put on a movie and overthink this?” you ask yourself, out loud. “That’ll work.”  
~~~~~ Red has a lead. That guy, from a few weeks ago, who got you fired and insulted you- his name was Chad.

“typical,” he mutters, strolling through the neighborhood he’s teleported to. 

It hadn’t been difficult to find him. He just had to go to the K-Mart you used to work at, find the only register without anyone working inside, and find the most recent purchase. (It was chocolate milk. That isn’t important, it’s just interesting.) 

Once he found the credit card number- thank god “Chad” didn’t use cash- he just had to bring it home to Boss. Or- PAPYRUS. Right. Papyrus. Paps brought it to Undyne, who ran it through the system and traced it back to a name. And an address. Which made it back to Red.

Simple.

Red summons a bone out of thin air, being careful with the dimensions- he needs it to be a crowbar of sorts. One end thin, one end thick. Up to the nearest house. Up the front steps…

He wasn’t going to KILL anybody, that’s supposedly a pretty bad offense up here. He was just giving this dirtbag his dues, which he somehow managed to get out of after insulting you. Insulting his babydoll- though you aren’t aware of that fact yet.

That’s his other problem. He can’t seem to work up the nerve to ‘claim' you. He can’t shake the feeling that it’s too mean. Which was never a problem in the Underground, but it seems to be a problem now. What if you don’t WANT to be his? He doesn’t want to make you unhappy, he’d never want to make you unhappy, but he doesn’t know any other way to do it.

He’s tried hanging around you, which hasn’t worked- (he pries open the front door, grunting with satisfaction as it swings open and BANGs against the back wall) though he thought he would be able to say something if he did. Now all he gets is awkwardness. And the looming fear you find him annoying. He doesn’t want to annoy you. He just wants to have enough nerve to talk to you.

“Hey! What the hell?!” a man shouts, coming around a corner.

He puts aside his thoughts long enough to focus on the angry human currently frozen in place, staring at him. 

He’s short, which is surprising. Red was expecting someone much more intimidating to warrant a slap from you. Shaggy brown hair, lanky, bad posture- drug-dealer build, if that makes any sense. 

‘like an angry Temmie,’ he notes. Not a threat yet, but can get nasty if you rub ‘em the wrong way.

“you Chad?” he asks, leaning in the doorway and inspecting his crowbar-bone.

“Who’s askin’? And why the hell’d you-”

“i’m askin’ the questions.” he says, sharply, looking up from his crowbar. Short guy freezes. “‘m guessing you’re wondering why i’m breakin’ inta your house.”

He nods, slowly. 

“well. i gotta- let’s just call her a friend. she works down the street, k-mart or whatever ya call it. couple weeks ago, she comes home cryin’.”

The human’s eyes squint menacingly, seemingly making some sort of connection. Red nods, as if he was reacting to the story.

“who would make a sweetheart like her cry, eh? well, some prick went and got her fired- for nothin’, if ya ask me. clearly nobody did though.”

He takes a few leisurely steps forward, making the man back up into a wall.

“‘cause now she’s out of a job, and the lil’ asshole who messed with her? no karma whatsoever. so i thought i’d take the matter into my own hands. startin’ with a little warning.”

His eyelights extinguish, leaving only one lit, glowing bright red in the dark hallway.

“n o b o d y m a k e s m y b a b y d o l l c r y.”

Instantly, Red slams him against the wall by his throat and tightens his grip, choking him. His yell is quickly silenced, hands coming up to scratch at the skeleton’s large one.

“so i wanna hear an apology. NOW.”

“F-from me?” he chokes out, gripping at the hand on his neck, a sneer crossing his face. His eyes are locked on something beyond Red’s face, and it seems to amuse him. “Or from Chad?”

Before Red has time to react, he feels a fist collide with the back of his skull, and he slams forwards into the wall. Wait- this guy isn’t Chad- shit. There’s definitely a crack in his skull now, but nothing that could kill him. Just disorient him before he can dodge- Not-Chad (?) sends a punch at his ribcage, cracking something else. 

Soon the two have him on the floor- he’s hissing and scraping at them, sending blind attacks and hoping they hit something. No such luck.

“Go get some rope, I think we could make some good money off this weak bastard,” Chad says- Not-Chad runs off.

Weak? DID THIS KID JUST CALL HIM WEAK?!

Red winds up, and before his attacker can react- a single, well-aimed clock to the jaw leaves him on the floor unconscious. The skeleton feels like bullets are pinging around the inside of his skull, specifically where the crack is.

‘just… shortcut, dammit…’

With that, he teleports away, trying desperately to reach home before the damage kills him off.  
~~~~~ He’s late.

Not five minutes late, like he promised- an HOUR late.

Red’s NEVER this late. He’s always just late enough to be annoying, but not late enough to worry anyone. There’s a punctuality to his tardiness. A method to the madness.

So when the thirty-minute mark hits, you call him. Once. Twice. No answer. You try calling Papyrus, pacing in the living room. Where ARE they?!

Luckily, Papyrus answers within the first ring, punctual as always. Unlike his brother.

“YES, HUMAN?”

“Paps, I’m so sorry to interrupt, but is Red with you?”

You know the answer is ‘no’ long before he says it, but you have to check. Red would never tell you he’s somewhere he isn’t. Right?

“NO, OF COURSE NOT. HE’S WITH YOU.”

“He said he’d be home at eight, but he’s half an hour late, and I’m really worried, he’s never this late.”

It sounds stupid out loud. Who would overreact about someone being thirty minutes late? So his response, quiet and as close to nervous as he gets, surprises you.

“I’ll be right over.”

Ten minutes later, Papyrus shows up and Red still isn’t home. You’re still pacing, gut swooping while you imagine the various things that might have happened to him… but he’s definitely stronger than any human, right? Unless there were some cops… or, maybe a gang… dogs can even be dangerous up here!

“YOU’VE CALLED HIM?” Papyrus asks from the table, where he’s leaning nervously.

“Four times. Keeps going to voicemail,” you mumble, nodding.

“WHEN DID HE SAY HE’D BE HOME, AGAIN?”

“Eight. Eight o’ five, actually, because we both knew he’d be five minutes late,” you add, pacing picking up speed as nausea swoops in your stomach. What if he got arrested? At least you’d know he was safe…

“Stop.”

You look up, over at Papyrus, and stop walking. He’s staring at the floor, eyes squinting and clearly trying to work up the nerve to say something.

“I know he’s never late. I also know he planned to go find the man who insulted you a few weeks ago and give him a piece of his mind. Rightfully so,” he adds. Your eyes widen in horror- he wouldn’t- he DIDN’T- “Don’t look like that, I know. If something happened to him- oh, goodness, don’t CRY.”

You swipe at your eyes, and guide your shaky feet to the couch to sit down. He could be dead. He could be dead. He could be kidnapped or being beat up or he could be DEAD and why didn’t you appreciate his little hugs and gestures before, he was just trying to be nice to you-

“CALM DOWN.” Papyrus orders, stalking over and sitting beside you. “Look. What I’m trying to say is, if he went and got himself killed, we’ll know sooner or later. But no matter what, I will continue to allow you to stay in our home. It is your home now, too.”

You look up at him, touched.

“T-thank y-y-you.”

“He’s my brother. I- I do not want to be alone if he’s gone,” he murmurs. The sight of him being so uncharacteristically quiet makes your gut twist.

However, before you get a chance to react, you hear something thud against the front door. A scrape and a knock accompany it- you jump to your feet, but Papyrus puts a hand on your shoulder and forces you to sit back down.

“WE DO NOT KNOW WHO IT IS. STAY THERE.”

He moves to the door and throws it open, tensing in case of attackers, but instead Red falls to the floor in front of him. The poor guy had been leaning on the door.

“RED?!” Papyrus exclaims.

“Red!”

You gasp, stumbling from your place on the couch to kneel beside him, gingerly checking to see if he’s alive. Other than a badly bruised and cracked skull, he looks to be okay. His eyelights flicker feebly, and he struggles to stand up, wincing-

“’s ok, ‘m f-fine,” but he collapses again with a groan.

You look up at Papyrus for help. He looks at his brother with what seems to be surprise and panic, then leans over and hefts him up into his arms, being careful to watch his wounds. 

“B-Boss-“ he starts, apologetically.

“SAVE YOUR BREATH.”

Once he’s settled on the couch, you run into the kitchen to grab bandages- there are plenty under the sink. However, when you come back in, Papyrus is knelt by the couch over his brother, holding his hands. A gentle, meadow-green swirl of magic curls up around Red’s chest and head, and you hear the gentle rattle of bone as he sighs in relief.

You aren’t exactly sure what you’re witnessing, but you get the feeling it’s personal. You creep up beside them on light footsteps, trying to still your shaking hands. There are no words. There are no jokes or admonishments. Nothing but the rattle of bone and the gentle sighs from Red. You eventually add to the tiny amount of noise, tearing bandages as you wrap his skull- trying to temporarily patch the crack in the back until it can heal on it’s own. Little dustings of white powder come off on your hands. You aren’t sure what it is, but it scares you. You wipe it off on your pants.

“How are you doing?” Papyrus says calmly, finally breaking the silence.

“tired,” Red chuckles in response, wincing as the words make the crack act up.

“Seriously.”

“better… feel like a ton’a bricks, though…”

“You did something stupid, didn’t you?”

“oh, yeah. big time.”

“You can tell me all about it after you’re not a wreck. Where are those bandages?”

“Right here,” you murmur, passing him the roll. 

Papyrus shoos you backwards a bit so you don’t see Red’s soul- a very private thing- and tugs his shirt up. Most of the broken bones are healed, but the bruises don’t help.

“THAT IS ALL I CAN DO,” Papyrus says, standing. “SLEEP FOR A BIT, AND EAT SOMETHING, FOR GOD’S SAKE.”

And then he goes off to his room, leaving Red to roll over on the couch with a sigh. Not a relieved one, a tired one.

Why are they leaving each other? He was doing so well when Papyrus was there talking to him! Well… they aren’t exactly bedside-manner type people. You take a deep breath and come forward- if Paps won’t help, you will.

“Hey,” you murmur, putting your hand tentatively on his shoulder- he turns over, softening when he sees you. 

“hey, doll.”

“I-“ you feel more tears press behind your eyes, and you abandon your choice of words. “That was really d-dumb,” you say, with a small smile.  
“my specialty,” he grunts.

“No, that’s not-” more tears, and you look away so you can wipe them away with your hand. “I thought you were- I- s-sorry…”

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, you aren’t crying over this, are ya?

“shh…” he murmurs, gently. “don’ cry, y’know i hate it when ya cry.”

“S-s-sorry.”

“’s ok. i’m ok, see? i’ll get all patched up, and then i’m gonna go back and find that little, slimy-”

“No!” you exclaim, firmly, letting the tears fall. There’s no point in stopping them now. “You are NOT doing that again! I thought you were dead or- or worse, you really scared me. You’re gonna have to loan me some of your damn anxiety meds after all the crap you just put me through, Red…”

His eyesockets are wide, and you stutter, kind of embarrassed.

“I-I know you care about me, and I know you love me and all that- and that means the world to me, nobody’s ever treated me like you have- but revenge isn’t the best way to show it, okay?”

He looks shocked.

“waitwaitwait- nobody’s ever loved ya before? i mean- that didn’t happen in the Underground much, but- c’mon, you humans do that all the time.”

You freeze- nope, not the time to go into all of your deep-seated emotional crap.

“This- this isn’t about me. Say you aren’t going back after that guy.”

“ok.”

“Okay WHAT?” you press.

“i won’t go back after ‘im.”

“Promise.”

He may hate promises more than a lot of things… but WOW does he love you.

“i promise, babydoll.”

You nod and lean over, pulling him into a hug as best you can. He accepts it, and finally decides to take the opportunity. 

With one movement, he pulls you until you’re lying on top of him, burying his face in your neck-

“W-woah,” you exclaim, holding onto his jacket until you get your bearings. “Um, Red, what’re you doing? You’re going to hurt your ribs.”

“anyone ever tell ya how gorgeous you are?”

His voice, though you’d never have known it before, makes his entire body rumble. You shiver- he’s talking right into your ear- when did this happen??

“‘cause if they didn’t, i gotta tell ya- DAMN, babydoll, you are beautiful.”

“I-”

“just seein’ you in my shirt today… it’s downright sexy.”

You bury your face into the leather of his jacket on instinct, too embarrassed to make eye contact. That is, until you feel a hand- gentle but firm, grasping your chin and tilting your crimson face up to look at him.

“hey, ’s ok. i mean,” he sighs and cards his fingers through your hair- “look at’cha. you’re so… just…”

He fumbles for the right word, so you fill in the blank for him.

“Average. Below average, I dare say. I should really get off of you, you’re going to hurt yourself-”

“i was gonna say perfect,” he says, ignoring your comment.

“Nobody’s perfect,” you mutter- your neck gets tired and you finally just let your head plop onto his chest. He seems to like this. Is he purring? It sure sounds like purring.

“don’t know when ya started callin’ yourself a nobody. i just wanna know who told ya you weren’t the sweetest treasure this world’s got, and i wanna beat the stuffin’ out of ‘em.”

You think back- well. It was probably YOU who told yourself that. After all that time.

“Doesn’t matter,” you mumble. “Come on, Red, I’m going to hurt you at this rate. You need to get some sleep.”

“no, i don’t. you think this is the worst that’s happened to me? i’m fine.”

“Worse?” you mumble, heart hammering into your throat… worse than THIS… “There’s been worse?”

“oh, yeah. ‘m ok, though, don’t sweat it.”

You pull your arms around him and give him a hug- what else can you do? He strokes your back, still purring. Like a rumbling deep in his chest, rolling over and over you.

‘Worse than… worse than THIS… how is he not ALWAYS terrified?!’ you think, hugging tighter. ‘I know I would be…’

You can barely imagine- did someone bash his skull in? Did they break his ribs- his arms? Why? He never… he didn’t… 

“calm down, sweetheart. ‘m used to it.”

“N-no.” you mutter. “No. You SHOULDN’T be. NOBODY should hurt you. EVER. It’s not FAIR.”

“i know.”

“That’s not enough, though. What if… what if they’d tried to sell you? I read an article about people selling monsters…”

“oh. so that’s what they meant… make good money off’a me… huh.”

“What?!”

“lookin’ back, i think they were tryin’ to kidnap me, there at the end. that woulda sucked.”

You- he- WHAT?!

“No, nononononono,” you murmur, breath hitching-

“hey, hey- i’m here, right? didn’t get kidnapped.”

“But- but- you could have been! They… they could have taken you away…”

“no. look at me.”

When you look up, he looks borderline scary. Serious.

“NOBODY is takin’ me away from you OR Bo- my bro. ‘m the one watchin’ the both’a you, anyway.”

You lean forward, pressing your forehead against his, because you can’t express what this feeling is with words. It’s everything and nothing, and you can only feel it. He seems a little shocked at first, but rocks forward enough to press further, until your lips meet his mouth.

You make absolutely no move to pull away.  
~~~~~ Papyrus is sitting on his bed, trying to take deep breaths. 

‘Dammit.’

That was so close.

‘Goddamnit.’

Too close. His brother- his only blood relative- nearly just got killed. Yeah, he’s been hurt worse than this before, but that was by other monsters. Never by a human. Humans are dangerous, especially full grown.

What if he’d…

“Stop it, you’re embarrassing yourself,” he hisses in the silence- before realizing he’s only talking to himself. His eyes slide to the side, still thinking. 

He hasn’t used healing magic like that in ages. Normally Sans could heal himself when he got into these kinds of skirmishes. Not today, though.

He growls, laying back on the expertly made bed, claws grabbing a pillow- before hearing the usual quiet voice in his head. The anger-management one.

‘Take deep breaths,’ it whispers. ‘If you need to talk it out, talk to an object. That can be just as good as a person sometimes.’

Wait. It’s your voice, isn’t it?

‘Dammit.’

He stands, heading to the door of his bedroom-

“Sans, you’d better have claimed her by now, or so help me…”  
~~~~~  
When you pull out of the kiss, you notice Sans looks entirely and utterly enamored. (Aww.)

You then immediately feel his mouth on your neck, and a short sentence murmured roughly against the skin-

“i’ve been waiting on THIS.”

A quick, sharp bite- it doesn’t draw blood, but it comes pretty dang close. You yelp; and just like that, it’s over. He draws a caressing hand over the wound, and you see some green in the corner of your vision. Healing magic.

“W-what the-”

“sorry ‘bout that, babydoll. couldn’t spend another second without’cha bein’ mine.”

(This scares you nearly more than the bite.)

“Yours?”

“oh.”

A quiet pause.

“i didn’t ask ya, did i?”

“No?”

He silently sits up, growling as his ribs and skull lash out in pain. You come up with him- in two short motions he has you on his lap. You politely shift onto the couch, waiting for an explanation.

It had been kind of cute at first! The little forehead touch and the kiss… but what’s all of THIS?

“i gotta ask… i mean- i really love ya, i should say that first.”

You smile softly, though your ears still get kind of red. It’s been a long while since you’ve heard those words- especially so tenderly. He takes your smile as encouragement and keeps going.

“and- i mean. i dunno how it works up here. but you didn’t have a lotta time in the Underground. kill or be killed, y’know? so you took the people you really cared about and you claimed ‘em. you could do it as family, as friends, or even if ya loved someone. me and Boss never did it, ‘cause, well,” he scratches at the back of his neck. “we never really had the greatest relationship ’til you came along.”

“Clearly, because you still call him ‘Boss’,” you mumble. He nods.

“yeah. heh. but- uh- i dunno. i love ya, a lot. and i’d really love it if you could be mine.”

Oh.

OH.

“I-” (Well, I mean, you should obviously say yes) “I mean-” (He went and nearly died trying to avenge you) “That’s just-“ (Why not date a monster, you couldn’t live without him, obviously) “If I tell you something, do you promise not to flip out?”

That isn’t the response he expected, but he nods.

“Okay- is this a terrible time to mention that Chad is my ex?”

You’ve never seen that fast a mood change on anyone’s face, and you doubt you never will.

“Yeah. He, uh. Dumped me. We were sharing an apartment at the time. He. Well. Kicked me out.”

He stands, heading toward the door, summoning some sort of weapon in his hand- you run in front of him, holding his arms.

“Red, no. You don’t get it. I’m trying to say that’s why I was out there by myself that night. A year or so ago? If he hadn’t made me leave, I never would have met you. It all has a purpose, right?”

“he’s still a roach… but… if you say so, babydmmm…”

You stop his words with a kiss, if only out of relief. He easily takes the bait- the attack clatters out of his hand and onto the floor. Within seconds, he has you straddled on his lap on the couch, pressing kisses into any part of your face he can reach.

You whisper, gently, between kisses-

“Don’t go back there… just… stay here, okay?”

He hums assent, pulling you into a few more kisses- occasionally he’ll nibble at your lips, your neck, your earlobes- anything he can nip, he will. The feeling makes you shiver pleasantly- he’s careful never to hurt you, and you’re careful not to pull away. The perfect balance.

You’re not sure you’ve felt like this in a long time. Too long.

“I love you,” you say, quietly, breaking the silence.

His eyesockets go wide- you wonder if anyone’s ever told him that before.

Well, if you won’t tell him a hundred times. You’ll tell him so much he’ll get sick of it.

“you too, doll…” he murmurs, nuzzling you- “you, too.”

“OH, FINALLY.” Papyrus says, from the top of the stairs. You whip around, jumping. “DON’T LET ME STOP YOU, BY ALL MEANS. TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH, RED. OH~?”

He walks down the stairs and observes the bite mark on your neck with satisfaction and a smirk. 

“WELL, WHO WOULD HAVE GUESSED. MY BROTHER PICKING SOMETHING CLASSY. HUH.”

You look back at Red, who is clearly trying to hide the shine in his eyelights from the praise. Papyrus heads back up the stairs, talking as he goes.

“HOWEVER, HOW COME YOU ARE MAKING HER DO ALL THE WORK? SHE’S ALL OVER YOU, YOU OUGHT TO CURB THAT A LITTLE.” 

Once he’s gone, Red flips positions so that he has to lean over to kiss you, teasing slightly at the hem of your shirt. 

This is looking to be a fun night.


End file.
